oh, anna [-hs]

used to be lonely

"Love you baby," I murmur.

"You too," she coos into my hair. And I pull away and glance back toward the kitchen.

"Bye Leo!"

Silence.

I grin and give Emma a look, before leaving with a click of the door.

The plane ride is relatively quiet. I sleep for an hour, and spend the rest of the time reviewing documents. As nice as it will be to see Harry for a little bit, I was hired for a job. There is a reason I'm heading to LA. I look out the little square window and smile down at the miles and miles of orange and red dust that coats the ground below us. There are long streaks of gray where I imagine highways have been plowed through the desert.

The plane finally lands, and I scuffle out with the other passengers, darting around people waiting in the airport lobby. I brought nothing but a small carry-on, so I sneak right past baggage claim and step outside into the dry LA heat.

My eyes search the line of cars for his. In my peripheral I see a black SUV flash its headlights and I grin, adjusting my bag on my shoulder and making my way to the car. The passenger door swings open with ease, revealing Harry's face behind the tinted glass. A pair of sunglasses hangs low on the bridge of his nose.

"Hey," he smiles at me.

I jump into the car, dropping my bag at my feet. My hands reach forward to grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him toward me and gently kissing him. He grins through it, cupping his hand behind my head, lacing his fingers lightly through my hair.

When I pull back, he has a soft pleasant expression on his face. "Hey," I finally respond cheekily.

I let go of his shirt and he leans back, putting the car in drive to pull out of the spot. "I missed that," he murmurs. His fingers push his sunglasses higher up the bridge of his nose.

"Me too," I grin. "How's LA? How's work been?"

"Good," he rolls his tongue between his bottom lip and teeth, staring out at the road. "I've been writing, a lot."

"Mmm," I hum in approval, my eyes still lingering over his figure. I've missed looking at him, it's only been two weeks, but it feels like it's been an eternity. I carefully trace my gaze over his features, seeing if anything has changed.

His nose is the same, slightly darkened in the shade of the car's roof. His same hands wrap around the steering wheel, the rings he's always worn adorning his fingers. His hair seems sloppier, he reaches a hand up to push it back occasionally. He has the same eyes, same lips, neck, ears. I'm happy that everything's exactly the same.

"What are you looking at," he mumbles teasingly. I huff.

"I haven't seen you in forever," I lift my arm up, propping my elbow against the headrest of my chair and holding my chin in my hand.

"Are you saying you forgot what I looked like?" An eyebrow perks up playfully.

"Of course not. I just want to make sure it's all the same as I left it."

He chuckles softly. My heart flutters. Making him laugh makes me feel so good. I run my tongue over my teeth and shift in my seat to face him more. His hand trails down to land on my knee, his thumb rubbing small circles into the fabric of my jeans. I forgot how good that small bit of affection from him felt. Two weeks and I forgot.

When we finally pull into his driveway, I feel a strange sense of peace. This place serves as a home in my heart.

I jump out of the car and swing my bag over my shoulder, grinning up at the house towering before me. Before I can step too far away, his arms loop over my shoulders and bring me closer to him. He's grinning. I have to squint to look up at him in the LA sun.